Title: Morning Wolf
Author: LupinLovesTonks
Rated: PG-13 (for now)
Disclaimer: There was this one time, in my dreams, that I owned everything JK did. Unfortunately that was just a dream. So are the millions of dollars I make on writing this fic.
Summary: While on a journey to find himself, Remus Lupin finds himself in danger in America then finds salvation in a most unlikely place.

Chapter Two
The wolf was running again, the same desperation was once again coursing through his veins. Last time it had been wolf hunters, this time it was something much worse he was trying to escape from. It was Death, trying to come and claim him. No, he would run from it. He was faster in wolf form so he'd be able to do it. So he ran. He continued running even though the wolf felt about ready to collapse from lack of breath.

A lake lie ahead of him. Maybe if he jumped into it, he could leave Death behind on the shoreline. Without a moment of hesitation, he crouched and leapt as far out into the lake as he could and started paddling for the other side. His muscles began tensing, yet he continued swimming. If he stopped now, he would drown.

Then he saw her, the white wolf standing within a beam of the full moon's light. If anyone could help him, she would. He began struggling more. He had to make it to her because she would be able to save him.

A boned hand grasped his hind leg and snatched him under the icy waters. The sound of a rattle resonated around him as he struggled to free his leg from the hand of Death. He could no longer see the glow of the moon through the water. His beautiful Goddess was fading from his sight as they sank deeper and deeper. The rattling became more frantic, somewhere in the deep background; he could hear a soft voice chanting in a language he'd never heard before. This was punctuated by the sound of a long, soul-piercing howl.

He was beginning to feel hotter with sudden, short, flashes of cold ripping through him at random moments. The long slow howl filled the air again and suddenly he found himself with the strength to kick his hind leg out of Death's grip and slowly floated back toward the surface.

He simply lie there limply, his wolf body slowly whirling around as it rose toward the surface. The part of his mind that was a man wondered how he hadn't yet drowned. When he could see the shimmer of the full moon again, he began paddling his front paws. He was almost there. In just a matter of moments, he would be able to find the she-wolf that had given howl. He would answer her call. His Goddess could pull him from death so he would honour her by replying.

He was getting so close to the surface. Finally, the tip of his snout broke the surface. As soon as he had reached the surface, he opened his mouth for a deep breath...

Remus J. Lupin sat up, giving a long deep howl. He stopped suddenly and looked around in shock.

He ran his hands over his chest and face, panting wildly to recuperate from the shortness of breath from being beneath the water for so long. He opened and closed his eyes several times before realizing he wasn't outside. In fact, it wasn't even nighttime, it was dawn.

"Good morning and welcome back to the mortal plains."

His ears perked. He knew that voice. Somehow he knew that strong, feminine voice. He turned slightly toward the source of the voice, which was now behind him, and studied it with curiosity. He knew that face, but from where? How had he gotten to this place? Where was this place?

The woman was kneeling next to where a pillow lay; he only guessed that his head had been lying upon it before coming to. She was clad in a deerskin, hooded-cloak with the hood off her head. Long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, garlanded with small leather thongs and feathers, bringing attention to her squared jaw line and angular face. Small spider web earrings dangled from her earlobes. Her thin neck was decorated with a choker made of several sets of long turquoise beads and pewter charm of a wolf at the centre of her throat.

"Rest, Man Wolf," she said firmly. "Your journey has been hard. So rest." She placed a hand on his shoulder and chest and guided him back to laying on the pallet he was on.

"Wh – Where am I?" Remus asked, panting for breath.

"Safe," she replied simply. "We will talk after you have rested. You changed again last night so I know you must be exhausted." He looked up at her forlornly. "Do not worry. I am a healer. A shaman. You're lucky to be alive. If I hadn't been giving you the potion, the change may have killed you."

"Wh – What potion?" he choked and then swallowed hard.

"Rest," she repeated, her voice was a bit softer this time. "We can talk later."

"T- to... To who-whom do I owe m-m-my..." he inhaled several times with difficulty "… my gratitude?"

She smiled gently and wiped the sweat from his face with a damp cloth that held the scent of a pleasant aroma. "My name is Morning Wolf. Rest, Man Wolf."

"Remus. Name... is... Remus. Not Man Wol – woof," he managed, just before the aroma put him back to sleep. And this time is was a dreamless sleep.

888

It was several more hours before Remus actually woke up. A dog was barking somewhere outside the small room he was in. From where he was laying, he let his eyes wander around the room. Several bundles of fresh herbs where hanging from the ceiling by small strings. The sun-bleached skull of a long horned steer was on one wall; a deer carcass had been fashioned into a window covering.

Above his head were four, good-sized, rings with string making a web through the centres. Leather thongs hung from the bottom of each hand made web, each thong bore several beads and feathers. His eyes drifted down to the bedding he was on. A thin mat covered with several blankets and a small pillow. Next to his pallet was a set of neatly folded clothes. A note lie on top.

With a groan of pain, he forced himself to sit up. He took the note and read the delicate, loopy words:

Join us when you get dressed. Don't let the baby bother you too much she just likes attention. Her name is Cookie.

Morning Wolf

Remus slowly forced his aching muscles to move, in order for him to perform the task of getting dressed. They were a few sizes too large, but he didn't mind. He slowly pulled himself to his feet but shortly had to limp over to a chair to sit down and continue the task.

He limped across the room to the door. There he saw another note, this one in very small and hard to read letters:

We left you a cane to help you get around while your leg finishes healing.

Moon Wolf

Remus took the "cane." It was really, more of a long staff than anything. It was about as thick as his wrist. It was made out of stripped wood, decorated with several symbols along its knobby length, and topped with a carving of a wolf head. At first Remus was put back by its height, but after a few steps was very grateful that it was tall enough and sturdy enough to support him with his injured leg. He was practically leaning upon the staff by time he opened the door.

The world outside of the little room was more what he would have expected a home to look like. It was a far cry different than the herb filled room he had just left. The entire feel of the house was very earthy and somewhat tribal. Almost everywhere he looked there was some sort of woven blanket or one of those web things he'd seen in the herb filled room. The furniture, however looked very overstuffed and was seemingly the only modern things inside of the house.

A desk with several papers and magazines, a short table with a wild array of flowers at the middle of it, lush red and orange chairs and a sofa... And several pictures of Old Indian Chiefs. An old Indian man in picture looked at him and chuckled before elbowing his partner and pointing. The two pictures began conversing in another language. By time Remus managed to limp his way over to the stuffed sofa, all the little Indian Chiefs had made their way to a larger picture full of several Indians, male and female, and were practically squishing the subjects of the picture in between their massive headdresses.

Remus' head was swimming and little white spots were dotting in front of his eyes from the pain in his injured leg. He bit down hard on his bottom lip and grasped his leg, just above his knee, as tightly as he could. He fell over side ways to lie on the sofa and tried his damnedest not to cry out in pain. After a moment the pain passed and he just lie there, panting to catch his breath.

"Oh god," he said weakly. He closed his eyes tightly and took in a deep breath to finally recapture his breath. He felt a tug on the ankle of his pants and slowly looked at where his feet were dangling off the side of the sofa. A frizzy little puppy was tugging on the cuff of the pants. It jumped back and gave a playful yap before turning and scurrying toward a side door.

It came running back in, sliding to a stop excitedly and barking up at him. At first Remus wanted to be annoyed and give it swift kick but, then he felt a tug at his heart when he saw the young creature sported only a stump for one of it's back legs.

"Cookie?" a female voice called from the room the pup had ran into and ran back out of. "I told you to keep quiet so our guest could sleep."

The little pup ran back into the other room yapping excitedly, it darted back into the room with him and sat at his feet wagging it's tail as it looked up at him with bright blue eyes. The small pup sat down and let it's head back to give a small sound he supposed was meant to be a howl.

"Cookie! What did I – Oh, hello."

Remus bowed his head slightly when the woman entered. It was the same woman that had given him the sleeping draught earlier. She had removed the bulky cloak and was now wearing dirty jeans, a tied up flannel shirt, and dirty western boots. There was a long whip around her waist with its handle stuck in her side pocket.

"Cookie is a very high spirited pup, you must be proud," he commented, reaching down and scooping it into his arms.

"Cub."

"Pardon?"

"Cookie is not a dog. She is a wolf," the woman explained. She walked over to him and took the cub from him with a bright smile on her face. "You're one of the sweetest additions to the pack yet aren't you Cookie?" She made a slight kiss sound and the cub touched its black nose to her nose for a moment before covering the woman's face with a tongue bath. She roughed the cub's coat before setting it back to the floor. "Until you arrived, she had the most interesting story, in the history of my services. Unfortunately, I don't think any wolf that I have rescued has ever turned into a man before. You must be hungry, come eat. My grandfather and I were just about to have us a bite."

He took the hand she offered him and slowly allowed her help him get to the room she had come from. It was a small, but cozy little kitchen. A small man sitting at the table raised his hand in greeting and muttered something that Remus couldn't understand.

"He says 'Good afternoon, Man Wolf'," the woman supplied. "And that his name is Withering Bear, mine is Morning Wolf. I tried telling him that your name was Remus but he prefers to call you Man Wolf until the Great Spirit blesses you with a new name. He doesn't give much care for English names."

She set a plate in front of each other them and said something to the hunched, elderly man with a warning tone. The man just eyed the mush on his plate and grumbled. "I heard that Grandfather. And I mean it. Eat or I will tell the doctor," she said calmly, as she took her seat again.

"So he understands English?" Remus asked.

"He can speak it when he wants," the woman replied with an affectionate smile at the old man. "Just responds better to the Cherokee language." Withering Bear just grumbled and spooned at the mush on his plate. "Do you have any questions Man Wolf?"

"Please. Do not call me Man Wolf," Remus said quietly. "I have never much liked the idea of being a werewolf."

"Man Wolf is a name of honour," the woman said lightly. "It means you are a man with the spirit of a wolf. It means nothing to your lycanthropy. Grandfather simply knows what he saw. And he saw a wolf become a man then saw the man turn back into a wolf when the moon was full. You should be honoured the Great Spirit gave you the gift. The Windego Warriors from the ancient times – what?"

"It wasn't a gift. It was a curse," Remus said rigidly. "You obviously do not know much about werewolves if you think of it as a gift. Maybe in ancient times it was seen as a gift, but when you're a child bitten out of spite by someone that abuses their lycanthropy – A werewolf that hunts down children of people that he feel wronged him – you never see it as a gift."

"It depends on your perspective," the woman replied calmly. "Besides, you get good wolves and bad one. It varies just as people do. If he was an evil man, he will be an evil wolf."

Withering Bear mumbled something and made some elaborate gestures with his hands. Morning Wolf smiled gently and translated, "The doctor told him his heart was weak, that he needed to stop attending the pow-wows on the reservations because of the strain they put on his heart. They gave him six months if he did not stop. That was ten years ago." The old man's face grew grim and growled one last bit. Morning Wolf seemed to be fighting the urge to give a laugh. "And just because some idiot white man tells you that you are cursed doesn't mean you are, as long as you find the blessing within it. In his case, it made him only more eager to serve The Great Spirit." She looked at the old man then at Remus. "He gives you three more months before you change your thinking."

"How long have I been here?" Remus asked.

"A month yesterday," she replied. "The shot to your leg nearly cost you your life. It took many many tries to finally get the infection and allergies from the bullets to subside. You gave us all a big fright. One of my students in general, though, than the others. We brought you in while the moon was still full as a wolf and then she came in to check on you an hour later and you were a man. It caught us all by surprise."

"I was planning to be in Canada by spring. So, I doubt I will even be here for three more months."

"This reservation is a haven for sick and weak wolves to recuperate. I never let a patient go if they are too weak to survive. So you will only leave when I say you are able. We will start with a walk around the outside of the house. After that I may be able to give an estimate on how long it will take you to be free to go."

"In case you haven't noticed, I am not a wolf," Remus felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to prickle defensively.

"Unfortunately, it is my duty to ensure the survival of the wolf," she said simply. "More so, unfortunately, is the fact you and the wolf are one. As much as you wish to hate that part of your self, it is my duty to make sure it is once again strong."

The old man muttered something and pointed out the window.

"He has a good point Remus. I have a few students outside that will be requiring my help for their daily lessons. Since you may end up being here for a while, it is only prudent you should learn their faces."

"Students?" Remus asked with interest.

"Yes, 'students'. Just a handful of the children from the reservations that showed magical ability and their parents refused to let them go learn silly wand tricks and pointless incantations. They wanted them to learn the true magic of their ancestors and the academies rarely take time to teach Shamanism because they think it is outdated. My grandfather is too old to teach --" the old man grumbled when she said this "--I apologize, he does not possess certain qualities that would allow him to adequately show the children how to do things, so they send them to me."

"I beg your pardon, but, I was taught more than silly wand tricks and pointless incantations," Remus snapped. "And I consider what I learnt to be 'true magic'."

"But did you learn anything of he ancient magic which gave birth to your brand of magic?" Morning Wolf asked pointedly. Remus stared at her in a stony manner. "I didn't think so. My children know the ancient arts and they know about the more modern things. If they wish to learn more of it, I wouldn't do anything to stop them, and nor do I discourage it. It's just ancient magic is stronger than anything... even death."

Remus closed his eyes tightly. He could hear Dumbledore's voice in the back of his mind, telling him how Lily had evoked an ancient magic to save Harry's life. When he opened his eyes and looked at Morning Wolf, she had a look that held something that resembled sadness in her eyes as she gazed at him. Remus just lowered his eyes to his plate and began to eat.

888

He grabbed a hold of Morning Wolf's arm as he started wheezing from the pain searing through his body. It had originated in his leg and shot upward from there. She carefully guided him to sitting on the bottom step of the porch. "You wanted to be in Canada when?" she asked, he knew very well she was mocking him. "This is most unacceptable. Not even to the actual yards yet and you have to sit from pain. At least with the cane, you can take your weight off the leg when you need to. It will probably be a few more weeks before you can walk on it without the cane..."

"I'm always like this the day after the full moon," he snapped. It was the pain causing him to be so short with her, he supposed. Either that or the way she fussed over him like he was a stubborn child wanting to get his way. He hated when people fussed over him like a sick child, the day after a transformation. "It always takes me a few days to recuperate from the change."

"So it causes you pain, then. To change?" she asked, cocking her head slightly as she looked down at him.

"Yes, it does. As I said, it's not something I want to happen. I have no choice. I see the full moon I change, very much against my will," Remus explained.

"Have you ever considered accepting your fate, embracing it, and treasuring it? Perhaps then it would not be as painful. Typical wolves are only vicious if they are threatened. Perhaps your wolf feels the man threatens it so it wishes nothing more than to cause you pain, since it knows killing you would kill it as well." She pushed up the pants leg of the injured leg and crouched down to observe it closely. "Perhaps if you wasn't being so stubborn you would treasure it." She dropped the pants leg back down and stood up from her crouched position. "The bone was shattered, so I had to use magic to mend it to an extent. You get stronger bones by letting them mend naturally."

"It's hard to treasure something you hate more than anything," Remus said quietly. His eyes went to a small fenced in pin where about three wolves were laying on their backs. He wondered what sort of ailments had landed the poor beasts in such a close pin.

Morning Wolf smiled gently. "It is sometimes the things we hate most, that we should treasure, Remus. The things we hate are what make us weak. Our weaknesses are what end up making us stronger people." She looked out across to a tree line in the distance. "I had to learn that once. Only once. Only then could I adequately be the healer I am today."

"Are you saying I'm not an adequate wizard?"

"Yes and no. You may have ability well enough," Morning Wolf explained. She placed her hand to the dirt at her feet. "The right words." She barked something in a different language then raised her hand slowly and a small whirlwind of dirt slowly grew between her hand and the dirt. "But if you do not have your soul in it. You either lose control of it and it will whither to nothing. Or, you lose control and it destroys you." She closed her hand and almost instantly the whirlwind dropped down to nothing more but a small heap of sand. "Do you understand yet Remus?"

"I'm afraid not," he replied honestly.

"In simpler terms. In order to be a master of anything, you must first master your self. All aspects of yourself. If you have a weakness, you have to find a way to make it a source of strength."

"I know a witch back home that could have patched my leg up completely and I could be turning flips right now," Remus gave a slight smirk. "Perhaps your weakness is that you're too over-confident in your abilities."

"Ah, yes, this is true maybe," she replied. "I could fix your leg instantly to. But, we both have too many things to learn for me to have you wandering off so soon. Besides, wounds that heal slowly end up making one stronger." She tilted her head slightly and gazed at him a long moment. "Would you like to meet my students? They had interest in meeting you if you survived."

"Why is that, I wonder," Remus frowned.

"They are children, but they have knowledge of their ancestry's legends and tales. There are even tales of warriors that would change into wolves when the moon was round and high. To them, it would be an honour to meet someone that seemed to step out of the legends they were taught on the reservations." She smiled lightly. "Wait here, I will go get them."

As if I have a choice, Remus thought bitterly. If it had been any other day, he would have demanded that she fix him, since she knew she had the ability. However, being it was the day after a full moon, he knew he at least needed a few days' rest before even attempting to continue his journey.